Outside the Doors
by HelenaHermione
Summary: As the 12th Doctor tries to piece together the fragments of his memories with Clara's help, a new foe awaits them outside the TARDIS doors.
1. Part 1

So after what just happened...maybe a 12th Doctor and Clara adventure is in order, just until we see the new episodes in August?

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**Outside the Doors**

**Part 1**

"You never taught me!" She cried, feeling like she was losing control of everything. "You always said you would, but the last time you did try, it went badly."

"How badly?" He asked, nervous about her, whoever she was. She stared at him in a helpless manner, as if she expected him to do or say something that would make things better, which he couldn't promise in that exact moment. He didn't even know where he was, or who he was, for that matter. He was hoping that she could help him.

"The TARDIS nearly blew up, I think. It's sort of blurred." She said. He was staring at her again, like he was trying to figure out just who she was. She didn't want to think about what this might mean.

"Right, no driving lessons." He grimaced, glancing over and studying the controls. "There has to be some reasoning behind them." He said to himself. "Anything that is constructed has to have some reasoning behind it, some creative force that is trying to create something that functions for the user's benefit."

"Yeah, in principle, I suppose." The young woman said.

"Okay, okay, I think I've gotten the hang of this thing." He said, laughing to himself after a minute. "The left one does the turns, the right one does…actually, I don't know what the right one does. I'll figure it out later."

"This is a nightmare." She said, rubbing her forehead and wishing that she could just wake up. Christmas had been a complete, utter disaster, with the turkey and her family and the Doctor…a mess.

"Maybe this button will do something." He pressed it, and the TARDIS jolted out of synch, causing Clara to shriek as she felt herself almost split apart. Even the Doctor, if she could call him that, looked alarmed at what had just happened.

"No, I think you're wrong!" She cried out, reality splitting at the seams. "He always—you always used to press this. I think." She pointed to one of the other controls.

"Stabilisers." He automatically said and blinked, looking up at her. "Stabilisers? Must be correct. I remembered something." He laughed, pressing the button. Everything went back to normal and the TARDIS, or whatever this machine was called, started to slow down slightly.

"What was that?" She asked.

"The dimensional curvature was disrupted, sorry about that." He automatically said and then laughed again. "I did it! I remembered something else. Time and relative dimensions, I think that's what this whole thing is about. We're getting there! Somewhere. Anywhere." He shrugged and, in a sing-song voice, he said, "Any place is better than here, and we've really got to go." He started flicking a few more switches and pressing buttons like he knew what he was doing.

"Go?" Clara said, reaching out and grabbing his hand to stop him. "We can't go anywhere, not while you're…all out of shape like this." She said, unable to find the right words for his condition.

"I think I can manage." He said, pulling his hand away from hers and then turning to examine the button that he had accidentally pressed before, the one that had disturbed the dimensional curvature. "All right, I need to put up a sign here that says, 'do not press this button'. I better remember that." He said.

"You can't even remember how to fly this thing!" She said. "How can you remember to put up a sign?" She gasped as he looked up at her; he seemed so much sterner than he used to. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"It's all right, I suppose you're right about that." He muttered, shaking his head as he gestured at the console. "I know I should remember something more about all of this. It seems almost familiar to me, like I have done this before, but I can't for the life of me remember just what I did here to make everything normal again."

She almost seemed to be frightened of him, he realized, this young girl, even though there wasn't any reason why she should be. He had not done anything to harm her, had he? He hoped not, he didn't think so. She seemed to be a lot younger than he was, though. He felt old, for some reason, older than he looked. Perhaps she was afraid of old age, the authority, or the senility.

"Oh, no," She whispered, closing her eyes. It was just as she feared when he asked her if she knew how to fly this thing.

"Bits and pieces are all jumbled up together in here, inside my head." He tapped his skull. "I know that the right pieces are there, they have been popping out so that I can function properly and do what needs to be done, but they just need to be assembled properly to form a coherent whole, a shape that makes perfect sense to me." He sighed to himself and glanced at her. "By the way, what is your name?"

"Clara. Clara Oswald." She said, grimacing. Just as she feared. "And you are called the Doctor."

"The Doctor, eh? Funny name, a title. No other?" He asked.

"No other that I know of. You didn't need another. You were simply called the Doctor because that was who you are." She said, opening her eyes and staring at him. "My Doctor."

"Right," He said, glancing away from her, feeling nervous again in the presence of her helpless stare. "And what exactly am I in relation to you?" He asked. "Your…father? Grandfather? Uncle? Brother? Cousin? Friend?"

"Friend. Always a friend to me." She said, smiling. "My dearest friend."

"Right, a friend," He said, nodding, feeling better. "Right, Clara," pronouncing her name in a manner she was unused to, "So…where are we? Have we landed somewhere?"

"I'm not sure where we are." She said, glancing at the doors. "I think we left the field outside of my apartment building and traveled somewhere else, while all of that was going on." She frowned. "I think we've landed, but sometimes it's a little hard to tell. Shall we…go explore, and see?" She asked, holding out her hand to him.

"I suppose." He hesitated, not wanting to take her hand for some reason. Was she afraid that he would wander off and be lost without her outside of the TARDIS? He didn't need her protection then, he wouldn't wander off. "Do we do this often?" He asked. "Go outside the TARDIS and explore?"

"Every time, everywhere we go." She said, lowering her hand when he refused to take it.

"Right. Routine, just the thing I need." He said, rubbing his hands together. "Time to get back into the old routine and back to my old self again. Better safe than sorry, or sorry than safe?" He asked.

"Sorry than safe." Clara said.

"That's the ticket for me." He said, nodding. He strode forward, and pushed open the doors. That part felt familiar to him.

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Uh...please comment, it is a new Doctor for me as well. Not too Eleven?


	2. Part 2: Ms Des

Change of scenery! It's related.

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**Outside the Doors**

**Part 2: Ms. Des**

Her prim and proper shoes clicked across the lobby floor of the Moon Enterprises building as she made her way to the lift, but then a voice cried out, "Ms. Des! Ms. Des! Can I please have an interview with you?"

She stopped and turned around to face the young reporter and cameraman heading her way. She sighed and shook her head, but then said, "You can have a few words from me, but not a full interview. Who are you and what news organization do you represent?"

"My name is Tomas Alexander, and I represent the Mystiva Press." He said as the cameraman focused his device on the reporter and businesswoman. "I wish to ask you, Ms. Des, about the Howling Machine you are about to release to the public. Is it true that there are still some safety issues that have to be cleared up?"

Ms. Des glanced at the cameraman and, speaking to his device, said, "Mr. Tomas Alexander, I can assure you as founder and CEO of Moon Enterprises that the Howling Machine is absolutely safe for public use. It has passed through every test we can think of, we have examined and inspected every one of the devices, and we have performed successful trial runs with numerous test subjects."

"Who were the test subjects, Ms. Des?"

"You know I can't answer that, Mr. Alexander, I don't even know. They were anonymous." Ms. Des said, annoyed with him. "But the results were satisfactory. The device is fully licensed and approved by the state bureau. It is ready for public consumption. By this time tomorrow, the Howling Machine will be available for public sale and usage. We have already presold a million devices, and the entertainment centers are already fully stocked with not just Howling Machines, but the numerous consoles, games, and add-on components that we will soon release to the public." She remarked.

"Sounds like a lot of investment into a fairly new and untested piece of technology." The reporter remarked. "Were you prepared to sustain such heavy losses if the Howling Machines proved unsuccessful?"

"All business and scientific endeavors carry with them some forms of risk, whether monetary or otherwise. You should know that." Ms. Des said. "Now, if you will please excuse me, I have a meeting I must attend straightway, and you have already delayed me a couple of minutes. Good day." She said, bowing her head as she pressed the lift button and soon left behind the reporter and his cameraman in the lobby.

"Well, at least you got the chance to talk to her." The cameraman said. "That's something, to say the least."

"But I didn't get enough out of her, just the spiel." The reporter said, annoyed. Yet he knew when to admit defeat. "Come on, let's go check the footage and see if we can get something good out of it."

Meanwhile, upstairs, Ms. Des stormed through the corridors and barged into the conference room. The board members stood up and bowed their heads, greeting her politely as she went up to the head of the table. "All right, let's get this thing straightened out." She said, pulling out her chair and sitting down. "What's the damage report?" She asked.

"Sixteen devices out of thirty exploded in the last trial run." One of the board members stated. "Twelve of them were still running with a test subject inside. Nine of them have already died." The board members grimaced amongst themselves.

Ms. Des's eyes roved through the conference room. "So whose fault is that?" She asked. "I want to know who!" She slammed her fist down on the table and groaned as she sat back in her chair. "Who is the person responsible for all of these problems? And who told the public that the Howling Machines would be ready by tomorrow?"

"I believe MacPhearson might have said…" Someone started to suggest, and then an argument broke out before Ms. Des called for silence.

"Twelve years we've been working on this product, twelve years, and we're still closer to creating the optimal device than we were before." Ms. Des said. "We should have had it working by now, but no! If it's not exploding machines, then it's leaking toxins, or the programming is faulty and needs rewiring, or there's an electrical fault that blacks out the whole city, or the test subjects go crazy and become vegetables!" She practically screamed. "Something must be going wrong here, someone must be interfering or sabotaging the project! How can this thing be so complicated?"

"Why are we doing this?" Someone on the board said. "Why are we throwing all of our resources into developing and advertising a product that we know is a health hazard, a danger to the public?"

"Because of how important the Howling Machine is, the value of the technology that we are developing." Ms. Des said. "Think of the sales! Think of the fortune and influence that we stand to make, not just here on this planet, but on every known planet in the galaxy! The Howling Machine could be the greatest scientific breakthrough of our time, and the most revolutionary product out there! Why, the prestige alone is worth the risks to Moon Enterprises." She said and then turned to face the members of the board. "In spite of the risks, as CEO and founder of Moon Enterprises, I say the Howling Machine is worth the investment we have made and that it will be a resounding success. You are all excused."

The members of the board muttered amongst themselves as they got up to leave the room, but then Ms. Des called out, "MacPhearson? I want to have a word with you in my office."

MacPhearson hesitated, glancing around at the other board members, but none of them would even say a word to him or look in his direction as they left him behind. Finally, gulping, he nodded and followed Ms. Des into her office like a man going to his execution. The room was stylishly furnished and exquisitely decorated, with the stone and metal sculpture of a moon situated right behind Ms. Des's desk. The sculpture itself had given Ms. Des the idea of naming her company 'Moon Enterprises'. The portrait of the late Mr. Des hung on the opposite wall so that Ms. Des always faced him whenever she was working.

"MacPhearson, how long have you been with Moon Enterprises?" Ms. Des asked as she approached the liquor cabinet and got out a bottle and two glasses, pouring herself and MacPhearson a couple of drinks.

"I've been here twenty years, ever since you started this company." MacPhearson said. "Back then, we were just a software firm, and I was a programmer. But then we also acquired a hardware firm, and I moved up to checking out the systems-"

"I don't need your life history." Ms. Des muttered, coming over and handing MacPhearson his drink. She raised her glass and said, "What shall we toast to? World peace? No, too boring and mundane. How about…to the success of the Howling Machine?" MacPhearson hesitated again, glancing down at his glass, and Ms. Des asked, "What's the matter? Don't you want to drink to the success of our most brilliant product ever? OR are you averse to claiming to support something you secretly hate?"

MacPhearson frowned and gazed up at her, steel in his eyes at last. "Ms. Helena Ulrica Des, you are a monster. You are the most despicable, evil person I have ever met. You don't even care what this product is going to do to all of those people who use it. You just want your name and the company's name advertised throughout the galaxy, and the sales, the sales!" He gulped down his drink as fast as he could. "Ms. Des, I don't want to be a part of this company anymore."

"Fine. Be that way." Ms. Des said, reaching over to press an intercom button on her desk. "Jacque, come in here and restrain MacPhearson."

The side door to Ms. Des's office opened, and a large, heavy-set man, Jacque, entered the room. MacPhearson turned around to flee, but suddenly he stumbled as he realized that his feet weren't working properly anymore. "What's happening to me?" He asked, a dull ache spreading throughout his body as he felt so very tired. Everything was too heavy to lift, even his eyelids.

"I drugged you, just in case you resisted." Ms. Des said. "Don't struggle, it's already taking effect." Jacque reached MacPhearson's side and started to bind him. "Jacque, please take MacPhearson to the Howling Machine on the fourth floor." She said.

"Yes, ma'am." Jacque said, lifting up MacPhearson, who tried to scream and shout, but nothing came out.

Ms. Des gulped down her drink as she watched them go. "MacPhearson was a valued member of the board. We shall not see his like again. Unfortunately, he was caught stealing funds and sabotaging the Howling Machine project." She muttered to herself, already rehearsing her address to the board. "Now what shall we do?" She asked.

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Hey, what do you think? Sort of like one of the classic stories with a corrupt business person...


	3. Part 3: Sleepydale

**Outside the Doors**

**Part 3: Sleepydale**

"It's a forest, breathable atmosphere." The Doctor said, sticking his head outside the TARDIS. "And there's something else beyond the trees…correction." He said, sticking his head back inside. "It's a forest on the edge of a city, probably a suburb of sorts."

"Is it Earth?" Clara asked, approaching the doors and glancing out.

"Earth?" The Doctor asked, gazing up at the sky. "I don't think so. Does Earth have two moons?"

"Definitely not Earth then." Clara said, glancing at the Doctor. "Earth only has one moon. It also is the third planet from its sun, has seven continents, and it's populated by humans, who are descended from apes."

"Yes, yes, I know all about the Earth." The Doctor grumbled, retreating back into the TARDIS.

"Just checking." She remarked, following after him. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to find the wardrobe room." He remarked, staring down at his clothes. "Whoever dressed me has poor fashion taste, purple is not my color, and it doesn't even fit right. I need to find something with a little more…pizzazz or what not."

"Pizzazz?" Clara asked, stunned as the Doctor left. "I thought that suited him just fine. Well, the old him…" She muttered to herself, shaking her head. "I'm not going to get used to this." She waited awhile, not certain if she should go after him, but then she might get lost in the TARDIS trying to locate the wardrobe room, and she didn't know if she could handle the Doctor…changing clothes. She had already seen him naked before, although that was his old self. Changing bodies had been traumatic enough.

"Ta-da!" The Doctor called out as he reentered the TARDIS console room awhile later, dressed in a burgundy coat worn over a light blue dress shirt and black pants with a kerchief sticking out of the coat pocket. "Well, what do you think?" He asked, adjusting the kerchief. "Do I look sporting, dashing, or daring?"

"It could have been worse." Clara remarked, studying him. "It could have been your multicolored suit. But at least you look somewhat fashionable."

"Thank you, I think." The Doctor said, glancing at her. "Well, let's get on with it and see what's out there." He cocked his elbow out at her so that she could hook her arm in with his and then they wandered out of the TARDIS. The Doctor glanced back at his vessel and stopped. "Egads, it's smaller on the outside! And why is it a blue box?"

"Oh, no…" She muttered before she shook her head. "That's the way it always is. Look, Doctor, are you sure that you're up for exploring when you're like this? Don't you want to wait awhile until you're more…used to who you are? Perhaps we can find that diary of yours again, and you can read up about yourself."

"No, I don't want to. I want to know who I am without looking it up in some old book. I should know who I am without checking up on what other people have to say about me, including me." The Doctor said, turning back to her. "Cause I can bet that I am my own worst critic."

"You wouldn't be wrong." Clara said.

"Didn't you say it's better to be sorry than safe?" The Doctor asked.

"But that was before I knew you didn't even remember the TARDIS!"

"Well, I happen to believe that. I believe that we should go out, look and explore, like we've always done. That's the easiest and hardest way of finding out things for yourself, right?"

"Right." Clara said, nodding.

"Now, come along…Pond?" The Doctor stopped, frowned, and shook his head before he continued on with Clara keeping up with him.

They wandered through the forested area and discovered that they were in the hilly backyard of a large, white building, almost a mansion, with a city skyline in the distance. Clara marveled at the sight, especially at the distant skyscrapers, which definitely would be considered an architectural wonder back on Earth. They walked up the slope of the mansion's backyard, heading for the back door.

"Are you sure that we should be doing this?" Clara asked. "Technically we're trespassing. Maybe we should sneak around…"

"No, I want to check up with the homeowners here." The Doctor said. "Tell them that we're visitors, wondering where we've landed, and if they could keep an eye on our blue box in the forest beyond their lawn? Won't take more than a jiffy." He said, knocking on the back door. "Hello?" He called out loudly. "Is anyone at home?"

"We're at home, but no one's awake yet!" A voice shouted from above as the Doctor and Clara glanced up at a woman leaning over the windowsill on the first floor. "If you want us to come, then you must knock twice more, spin around three times, and crow like a cockle hen!" She laughed.

"Huh?" Clara asked as the Doctor knocked twice more on the door and started to spin around before she stopped him. "Doctor, please, you're making things worse." Clara told him as she spotted a young man, around her age, approaching the back door inside.

"Oh, come on, give us a show!" The woman upstairs shouted. "I'm dying up here, we all are! Entertain us, entertain us!" She shouted, and more muffled voices from the upstairs rooms could be heard repeating her refrain.

"I'm just doing what she told me to." The Doctor remarked as the back door opened. "Ah, yes, my good fellow," The Doctor said, addressing the young man, "Could you please tell us where we are? My friend Clara and I have gotten lost. Our vessel has broken down in the forest beyond your home and we would like directions to the nearest repair shop."

"It's not my home." The young man said. "It's the Sleepydale Sanatorium."

"Ah, a sanatorium, yes, I see now," The Doctor said, noticing the young man's scrubs and glancing at the facility inside. "It looks like a nice place to recover in. What sort of patients do you get here?"

"All sorts usually, but lately we've been getting some…weirdos, I suppose you could say." The young man said.

"Weirdos?" The Doctor frowned as Clara raised an eyebrow. "Who are you to judge?" The Doctor asked.

"I'm sorry, it's just that they're not normal. A whole bunch of people have shown up here suffering from some unspecified kind of head trauma and neurological disorders and they need special attention, especially to make sure that they don't go wandering off into the streets." The orderly said. "I look after them sometimes. The doctors are baffled as to how so many people could have been so severely affected all at once."

"Well, my name's the Doctor, and I'm here to make sure they get the best care and treatment that money can buy." The Doctor said, his hand digging into one of his coat pockets and pulling out a wallet, which he flipped open to show the orderly.

"A government healthcare inspector?" The orderly asked, staring at the paper. "I didn't know that there would be a government inspection today. None of the doctors or nurses are on staff, you know, it's a holiday. I'm the only one here."

"Well, then, it's the best time for me to come around and see how the patients are faring on their own, is it not, to see what kind of benefits they are getting out of treatment." The Doctor remarked, flipping the wallet closed. "This is my assistant, Clara Oswald, and she'll be watching out for you to make sure that you don't act up." He lectured the orderly as Clara did her best to glare at the young man, who looked confused and scared.

"Now, show me a few of your patients, specifically the ones with a rash of neurological disorders, in the treatment rooms and we can get things started. Perhaps a look at their medical record files might also be in order." The Doctor said, turning to Clara. "Would you be so kind…?"

"Got it. I'll take…what's-his-name here to help." Clara said, nodding.

"Gerald." The orderly said, wondering what he was getting roped into here as the Doctor and Clara entered Sleepydale Sanatorium.


End file.
